Page 45 of I Wish You All the Best

I’ve passed by Nathan’s house nearly every day since I got to Hannah’s. And I never even knew it.

“Nice place,” I say to myself, walking slowly up the steps of the front door, wondering if it really is too late to try and run home and avoid all of this.

No. I can do this.

I knock on the burgundy door a few times, and there’s this loud bark from somewhere in the house, and then the sound of footsteps. Nathan opens the door slowly, leaving it open just enough for me to see one of his eyes and part of his mouth. “Hey!”

“Should I even ask?”

“Okay, just to warn you, my dog, Ryder, is inside. He doesn’t bite, but he loves company and he will try to hug you.”

“It’s okay. I like dogs. What kind is he?”

“Ryder, get back!” I can hear Nathan wrestling with Ryder behind the door. “Golden retriever.” Nathan holds the door open for me. “Come on, he should be fine.”

I follow him into the house, and there isn’t even a second before Ryder goes right for me, sniffing at my jeans and leaping up on his hind legs to knock me over with his front paws. Next thing I know I’m on my ass, hitting the hardwood floors, and Ryder’s licking at my face.

“Ryder, no!”

“It’s okay.” I rub him behind the ears. Ryder’s got these huge brown eyes that make it impossible to be mad at him. “I like kisses.” I immediately realize what I just said, and blood rushes to my cheeks. “From dogs, I mean.” Could I be more awkward?

“He’s totally shameless. You should know better by now, shouldn’t you, boy?” Nathan asks him.

Ryder looks back at Nathan before giving me a mouthful of gross, hot breath right in my face.

“Hey, you want to go outside?” Nathan’s voice switches from serious to that fake sort of excited you use for dogs and babies.

Ryder kicks up his legs, bouncing up and down all the way to the back door, waiting impatiently for Nathan to finally slide the glass open. The moment the door is wide enough, Ryder bolts.

“I swear, I love that dog, but he’s a total doofball most of the time.” Nathan hurries back over to help me up off the floor.

“That’s been the case with every golden retriever I know.” We walk back over to the door.

“Wouldn’t trade him for anything.” Nathan whistles, interrupting Ryder’s very important task of rolling around in the grass. “Ryder, ball!” Nathan uses his excited voice again.

Ryder’s ears perk up. He waits just a split second before starting to run around the yard in a big circle, grabbing something without stopping and bringing it to Nathan.

Nathan grabs the slobber-covered ball and chucks it into the far corner of the yard. Ryder was gone the moment Nathan raised his arm, ready to catch the ball before it even hit the ground.

I sit back and watch them repeat this a few times, Ryder never failing to jump up and catch the ball with his mouth. “He’s good at that,” I say.

“We’ve had a lot of practice.” He throws the ball lazily one more time, wiping the slobber on his jeans. “You ready to do some book learnin’?” He says this with what I can only describe as the worst southern accent I’ve ever heard.

“Sure.” I follow Nathan back inside and up the stairs, trying not to get nervous at the fact that I am probably being led to his bedroom. I try to distract myself with the photos lining the walls. Young Nathan is cute. I mean, teenage Nathan is cute too, but he doesn’t have the pinchable cheeks anymore.

And why am I thinking about that?

Different thoughts. Different thoughts.

His parents look really happy too. It’s incredibly obvious that he got his smile from his mom. In fact, he seems to share most of his traits with his mom, at least at a glance. They have the same eyes, same nose, same smile.

“You look like her, like your mom,” I say, stopping at a picture of the two of them at what I guess is Easter. The big purple wicker basket and the bright polo shirt Nathan is wearing are sort of giveaways.

“I get that a lot.” He grins.

“Is this your dad?” I point to another picture of a much older man and Nathan behind the wheel of a boat.

“Stepdad. Mom married him when I was about twelve.”